


and now the loyalty of wolves

by NoxWrites



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Season 8 Fix It Fic - Freeform, Yeah Robb's wife is alive cause I said so, daenerys doesn't die au, this isn't as in depth as i wanted but i like it either way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 11:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoxWrites/pseuds/NoxWrites
Summary: She can hear the sound of approaching hooves and the banging of metal against metal as soldiers ride towards her. She can hear Drogon growl as they approach, his front claws come down around Sansa in a protective stance but she shakes her head and he eases back.“Get the maester!” Sansa shouts, her hands going to lift underneath Daenerys. “Get the maester!”She can see Brienne looking at her in confusion as their group approaches. “My lady, what is it?”“Get help, your queen needs your help!” Sansa shouts and it's then that the soldiers begin to frenzy.ordaenerys doesn't die in season 8





	and now the loyalty of wolves

**Author's Note:**

> suck on this david and db

“My lady!” 

 

Sansa looks over her shoulder while she reviews numbers on grain stores and gold in the treasury amongst other needs of the north. The guards at the door have stopped the man who’s breathing heavily and leaning over with his hands on his knees. Sansa nods her head and the guards step aside to let the man through. 

 

“Yes?” Sansa’s voice is calm and disinterested. 

 

“Dragon.” The man kneels down, “Coming from the South East.”

 

Sansa sets the papers down and turns on her heel. “Dothraki? Unsullied? The Queen’s entourage, who is with it?”

 

“No one.” The man never looks up to her.

 

Sansa turns and grabs the material of her dress, pulling it up so she can walk faster through the halls of Winterfell. Brienne is on her heels with Podrick behind them.

 

“My lady, we should get you to safety, should the dragon feel the need to feed you are in danger.” 

 

Sansa ignores Brienne’s plea of safety and she continues down the halls until she reaches the courtyard. She looks to the sky and can see nothing, the sky is full of white clouds and not a sign of a dragon in sight. She bites her tongue, she can see her people rushing about as the bells begin to ring, they’re still rebuilding Winterfell and a dragon attacking would cause damage that could be irreparable. She wants to tell them to calm down, that the dragon means them no harm, her night with Daenerys atop Drogon’s back plays in the back of her mind. The beast was ferocious but gentle with those he knew, and he knew Winterfell. 

 

“My lady, inside! We don’t have the men to fight off a dragon!” One of the captains of her guard yells out as he grabs a shield off of a pile in the snow. 

 

She simply shakes her head and looks out, still trying to spot the speck of black of Drogon’s form. She doesn’t see him but she hears him and something about it makes her heart clench. His usual roar is deep and full of power but this one sounds like a screech of terror, similar to that of their cries through the night after losing their brother again. 

 

“Why is he here? Has anyone spotted The Queen on his back?” Sansa shouts to the courtyard, not to anyone in particular. 

 

“She’s not on him, my lady.” The man from before has caught up to them and then he’s run off again to grab weapons. 

 

“My lady, as your defender, I beg of you to go inside.” Brienne pleads as she draws her sword. 

 

Another massive screech rings out through the air of the North, Sansa puts her hand up to block the sun as it appears behind parting clouds. She squints her eyes and focuses on the horizon and as the sun hides once more behind a cloud a flash of black breaks from the rays of light. 

 

“Stand down.” Sansa’s voice trembles as she watches the approaching beast.

 

“My lady?” Brienne’s mouth is open in aghast and confusion. 

 

“Tell everyone to stand down,” Sansa repeats, this time her voice sharp and demanding. 

 

Brienne takes a moment, looking between the incoming sight of Drogon to Sansa, before moving towards the soldiers. She starts to yell at the captains to stand down and the captains look at her in confusion but after a second yell, they obey. 

 

Sansa turns from the courtyard to the stables at the side of the main keep of Winterfell. She calls for a stable hand before demanding a horse, the hand looks at her in confusion and a bit of fear before ushering her over to a stall. She lets him help her mount the horse for the sake of time, with a quick squeeze she takes off, out of Winterfell and to the open expanse between Winterfell and the Wolfswood. 

 

She can hear Brienne shout behind her but she rides hard into the snowy void around Winterfell. She hears Brienne yelling at Podrick to follow her but she leaves him in the mist of snow. 

 

She makes it to a large open space before dismounting and then walks farther from the horse. She hopes the dragon can see her amidst the white expanse of nothingness. He comes closer, his figure enlarging on his approach and as he reaches the keep Sansa watches as he goes over her head and far beyond Winterfell. She feels her heart crack as another saddening cry is unleashed across the land. He turns around as he passes the castle and comes back around once more. He skips the keep and begins to slow his descent as he reaches the open field in which she stands.

 

Sansa watches as he gently hovers above the ground. She watches as one of his hind legs lowers itself softly to the snow, uncurling his claws as he lets something slip from his grasps. He lifts himself back into the air before coming around to behind Sansa as she approaches his gift. She takes cautious steps forward as she approaches, the gift’s form is human like but it's head blends with the snow and the clothing mimics Drogon’s scale color. With a few more cautious steps she can make out familiar violet eyes--lifeless and blank--and soft cheeks--pale and cold--with pink lips--bloodstained and turning blue. 

 

She rushes forward, falling to her knees as she approaches Daenerys’ body. She hears Drogon whine from behind her and she can feel her heart breaking with his. She wishes she could be Bran, go back to a few days ago when they were hiding in her chambers taking a moment for themselves amongst the chaos of war. She shakes the tears from her eyes as she looks at Daenerys’ cold body. 

 

She can hear the sound of approaching hooves and the banging of metal against metal as soldiers ride towards her. She can hear Drogon growl as they approach, his front claws come down around Sansa in a protective stance but she shakes her head and he eases back. 

 

“Get the maester!” Sansa shouts, her hands going to lift underneath Daenerys. “Get the maester!” 

 

She can see Brienne looking at her in confusion as their group approaches. “My lady, what is it?” 

 

“Get help, your queen needs your help!” Sansa shouts and it's then that the soldiers begin to frenzy. 

 

Brienne sends half of the group back to Winterfell and they take off with incredible speed as Sansa stays clinging to the form of Daenerys. Brienne dismounts and approaches, she kneels next to Sansa, one eye on the dragon that watches her with a fiery intensity. 

 

“My lady, let me carry her. We’ll meet the maester at the gate, it will be quicker.” Brienne’s voice is soft as she speaks, one hand waves behind her to motion the rest of the soldiers to approach.

 

The group comes and helps Brienne bring the queen onto a horse. Sansa mounts the horse but it's automatic, her body feels lifeless as she follows behind Brienne to Winterfell. She looks over her shoulder to see Drogon watching as they disappear behind stone walls. 

 

The maester is slow to approach and Sansa wants to ring his head, wants to yell at him for being slow but she has to keep herself at bay. As Daenerys’ body is set on a wooden plank Sansa watches as Brienne turns to look at her. She remembers Brienne coming to her the day after Daenerys’ departure with warm words about how some things are meant to be, Sansa never took Brienne as a romantic. 

 

“She’s still breathing.”

 

Sansa looks up immediately and the maester looks to her. “You’re sure?”

 

The maester nods his head. “Very slow and shallow, but the breathing is there as is the pulse.”

 

“Then take her inside! Help her, she is our queen!” Brienne shouts for Sansa, Sansa’s blood is pumping too loudly in her head for her to speak. 

 

―

 

Sansa watches in the back of the room as the maester works with deft fingers despite his age, he’s careful in every movement and any slight change in Daenerys’ body is noted. He speaks a bit as he works and it calms Sansa despite the words being those of pain and anguish.

 

“The knife seems to have missed the heart, it definitely punctured her left lung but should it be removed properly it will heal, in time.”

 

Sansa bites at her nails as she watches Daenerys’ face, her entire being focused on the nearly dead queen in Winterfell’s infirmary. She looks back up to the maester as he speaks but she can never draw her eyes away for long. 

 

“Can you remove it?” She asks as she steps forward to the table Daenerys is laid on.

 

The maester simply nods and Sansa stands near the end of the table the entire time, she doesn’t notice the setting sun or the food being left for her or Brienne who stands at her side to check on her every few minutes. The maester successfully removes the knife and sets it on the small table directly behind him. 

 

“My lady.” Brienne calls to her, she has walked to the table behind the maester and picked up the dagger that came from Daenerys’ chest. 

 

Sansa looks at her with questioning eyes, her eyes are drawn to the dagger that is now in Brienne’s hands. She walks closer and reaches a hand out, Brienne sets the hilt in Sansa’s palm. Sansa turns it over in her hands, watching as the faint light of the room dances across the metal. Her eyes are drawn to the mark on the pommel of the blade.

 

“This was made by Ser Rodrick.” She focuses on the familiar mark pressed into the metal. “Father gave this to Jon the morning he left for Castle Black.” 

 

“Are you suggesting-”

 

“Jon tried to murder Daenerys.”

 

―

 

The door creaks open, the light is bright against his eyes and he lifts a hand to shield his face from the light. His eyes sting as more light is let in until the door slams shut and he is encased in darkness once more.

 

“What did you do?” Arya’s voice is stern as she speaks, making her presence known to Jon in his cell.

 

“I did what I had to do, I am the shield that guards the realms of men.” Jon whispers as he leans forward, his elbows on his knees as he sits on a wooden bench. 

 

“You gave up that oath when you became King in the North, then you bent the knee to Daenerys and your oath was to protect your queen.” Arya points out as she begins to walk from wall to wall. 

 

“You killed Cersei, how is that any different than what I did?” Jon grasps for straws of reasoning.

 

“Cersei was the reason father was executed. She manipulated Sansa, she killed Lady, she would have killed Nymeria. She blew up the Sept of Baelor. She killed King Robert. What did Daenerys do but burn a city full of awful people with awful hearts after having lost everything?” Arya snaps at him. “What are you going to tell Sansa?”

 

“What do you mean, by now the ravens have been sent to all houses of my treason?” Jon looks up at his sister with confusion on his face.

 

Arya shakes her head, “You are not the most perceptive man, are you?” When Jon just shrugs his shoulders, she continues, “Sansa fell in love with Daenerys when they were in Winterfell. Daenerys promised to come back to Sansa when this was done. They were going to give the throne to you or Tyrion or anyone and go back to Essos.”

 

Jon scoffs and shakes his head, “Sansa hated Daenerys.”

 

Arya groans, “Jon, you cannot be this ignorant. Sansa didn’t hate Daenerys, she hated the idea of the North returning to the ruling fist of the Iron Throne. Daenerys explained to Sansa her intent to ‘break the wheel’. They fell in love. Did you know Sansa rode Rhaegal?”

 

Jon looks up in shock, his back straightens out. “I’m her nephew and they barely gave me the time of day. I have her blood.”

 

“Maybe they knew what you’d do, they knew you weren’t to be trusted.” Arya speaks softly, its nearly a whisper.

 

Jon feels his heart break a bit, the disappointment evident in Arya’s voice causing him pain. “You don’t think that, do you?”

 

“You will always be my brother, nothing can change that. You also happened to murder your aunt and queen. I’m not sure what I think, but I know you took the last thing Sansa loved other than her family and that may blow back on you.” Arya speaks softly, her tone never changes and her emotions never leak through.

 

Jon shakes his head before he holds his head in his hands and leans back down, “She promised to preserve the people, to stop the attack if the bells rang, and she didn’t and the Unsullied and Dothraki just kept killing.”

 

“And you bent the knee, promising to support her, then you killed her. I was there Jon, I saw the madness of the attack.” Arya walks closer to the door of his cell. “I don’t know what will happen but know that I love you, and you’re my brother.”

 

“I thought you hated Daenerys as well, you didn’t want her as queen. Why defend her now?” Jon bites at her.

 

Arya looks at him softly, “Whether through Sansa or you, she’s a part of our pack. You wanted this, for us to be accepting of her, then you change because of one incident. One action doesn’t make her the Mad Queen.”

 

With a single knock the door opens and Arya leaves him alone in the cell. He rings his head in his hands for the next unknown amount of hours until he falls asleep.

 

―

 

Sansa feels her stomach roaring with anger about the lack of food she has been consuming, but she’s been unable to pull herself from Daenerys’ bedside for little more than an hour to attend necessary meetings. She always returns to the queen’s chambers and finds herself in pain the next day from sleeping in an uncomfortable chair. She closes her eyes for a moment, feeling herself drift into the safety of slumber.

 

“Sansa?” Daenerys’ voice is hoarse and cracked, her breathing is still heavily labored and with her speech it seems her breathing becomes even worse as she gasps for breath after speaking.

 

Sansa’s eyes flash open and she leans forward to reach for Daenerys’ hand. “Guards! Get the maester!”

 

Daenerys’ eyes wince in pain as she moves about in the bed. “Where-”

 

“It’s okay, you’re in Winterfell. Drogon brought you here.” Sansa speaks softly, trying to give enough information for Daenerys to not have to speak. 

 

A knock on the door and the maester enters with a bag at his side and Brienne comes in behind him. She steps behind Sansa’s chair and stands at attention as the maester begins to set his things on a nearby table. He approaches Daenerys’ bed and peels back her furs until she’s uncovered except her night gown that Sansa had helped gently put her in after her first operation. 

  
Daenerys watches with heavy eyes, she watches as the maester, with Sansa’s help, pulls up her nightgown to the wound on the left side of her abdomen. Daenerys winces with any small movement and with every few breaths she breaks into a coughing fit. Sansa runs her hand over Daenerys’ forehead, brushing the hair from her forehead. 

 

“How do you feel, Your Grace?” The maester asks to which he gets a half hearted glare from Daenerys. 

 

“I’m going to give you milk of the poppy to ease your pain, I need to cut some flesh that has become infected.” The maester turns around to grab the milk of the poppy but she clears her throat to grab his attention.

 

“I don’t want any.” Daenerys’ jaw clenches as she speaks, in pain but refusing the medicine. 

 

Sansa shakes her head in frustration at Daenerys. “Please Da- Your Grace.” 

 

Daenerys looks at Sansa and slowly nods her head, she tries to lift her hand for the cup but groans in frustration. Sansa offers her hand and the maester gives her the cup. With slow movements Sansa bring the cup slowly to Daenerys’ lips and lets her drink it. Daenerys only drinks half of the cup before leaning away, refusing anymore. Sansa sighs then hands it back to maester. Sansa moves to step away but Daenerys snatches her hand and squeezes it tightly. Daenerys looks at her and winces as Maester Wolkan starts to cut at the infected injury. 

 

Sansa sits on the bedside, holding Daenerys hand as she winces and hisses in pain. Sansa rubs her thumb along the back of Daenerys’ hand. She doesn’t know how long they stay there but the room is partially empty by the time Maester Wolkan finishes his procedure. Daenerys is partially asleep and she waves for everyone to leave. Sansa refuses even when Brienne sets a hand on her shoulder to usher her away. The door closes and leaves them in silence. 

 

“I regretted it as soon as it happened. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t get Missandei’s face out of my eyes. She took everything from me. I couldn’t let her go unpunished. No trial would give me peace. I just wanted to watch it all burn.” Daenerys’ voice is hoarse and her eyes burn as she cries.

 

Sansa leans down and brushes at Daenerys’ cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Those people are horrible, they laughed as Cersei was paraded around naked, they threw things at her, they tried to get me, they celebrated as Yara and Ellaria were paraded around by Euron. It was nothing they didn’t deserve.” 

 

Daenerys shakes her head. “But they weren’t the goal. I was just trying to destroy evil but I became the evil I wanted to extinguish.”

 

“You did it with the intent to set people free, to break the wheel. You didn’t do it for the sake of destruction. That’s what separates madness from sanity.” Sansa kisses Daenerys’ forehead.

 

Daenerys closes her eyes, shaking her head as she continues to cry in the bed. Sansa lays on the bed and turns around, laying on her back next to Daenerys. She puts her arm around Daenerys and gently brushes her hair. 

 

“You’re going to be okay.” Sansa whispers.

 

―

 

Slowly but surely, Daenerys regains her strength. Sansa knows its still difficult for her to breathe on some days but on better days she even goes out into the cold. Sansa has been spending time with Drogon, calming him and staying near him. He’s found a nice nest of snow near the side of the keep where Daenerys sleeps. Daenerys wakes each morning and brings herself to the window that faces out to Drogon. Each morning he raises his head and tries to bring it through the window but he’s stopped and each morning he gets close enough so he can feel Daenerys’ hand press against his nose.

 

Sansa has sent word-not through raven, she can’t trust who would open it before it reaches its target-to Grey Worm after the first few weeks. Word has reached the entire kingdom of Jon Snow’s betrayal, the North was in the midst of a nightmare. Those who trusted Jon on letting Daenerys be queen were furious that he betrayed her, demanding his head. Those who trusted Jon and wanted him to be King in the North were outraged at those who wanted his head. Those who followed the true heir to House Stark looked to Sansa for leadership, keeping the tension as minimal as possible as she helped Daenerys recover. 

 

Word had been sent to King’s Landing of Drogon but not the queen, none could hide the massive beast and word was out before Sansa could handle the news. When Brienne returns from Kings Landing and delivering Grey Worm’s missive she is sent out once more, heading to the Iron Islands and reaching out to Yara Greyjoy. 

 

Jon and Tyrion had been imprisoned and Sansa was trying to keep as many people alive as possible, Yara wanted to storm King’s Landing and kill Jon. Sansa made sure Yara was aware of Daenerys’ condition but not of her location. 

 

Daenerys begs nearly every day for permission to go back to King’s Landing. With no queen or king the people were confused. The kingdoms of Westeros were descending into chaos, the wardens and paramounts of the regions were claiming independence, a once united kingdom was dividing to kingdoms that had not been seen since before Aegon’s conquest. 

 

It’s not until the day that each warden is handed a missive from King’s Landing, demanding their presence for the trial of the traitors Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister, that Sansa allows Daenerys more freedom. With Arya back in Winterfell Sansa leaves Bran in charge, despite his protests he knows he must stay.

 

_ There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. _

 

While he denies his rights he is still a Stark, three eyes or two. Sansa thanks him and then joins Daenerys in the litter that's in the midst of their caravan. Arya knocks lightly on the wooden litter to let them know they’re beginning their journey. The litter starts moving and Daenerys jostles a bit with the movement. 

 

Sansa moves to sit next to her and Daenerys leans back into Sansa’s chest. Daenerys is closing her eyes when the entire cart shakes and a roar echoes above them. Drogon has taken off and decide to announce his presence to the rest of the caravan. Sansa chuckles and gives a kiss to Daenerys’ forehead as Daenerys smiles at the sound of Drogon above them. 

 

―

 

Jon is jostled as they walk him up the steps of the Dragon Pit. He winces immensely as the sun blinds him, months in a cell have left him blinded by the slightest hint of light. He’s brought up and in front of him he sees three large coverings pitched, similar to that of his meeting in the same pit with Cersei and Dae- his throat clenches at the thought of her as it does every time he thinks of her name. 

 

In front of him he focuses on the faces of those sitting under the shade, he recognizes lords and ladies alike, nearly fifteen people sit in this half circle. In the center he notices an empty chair, put on a platform a bit higher than the rest. Another seat is raised higher but not as high as the center chair, his eldest sister is seated in it with Arya at her side in another chair and Brienne behind her. Next to Arya, Jon sees Davos Seaworth, the newest Lord Paramount of the Reach, Gendry Baratheon, the newest Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. Then underneath another shaded awning is Yara Greyjoy, Queen of the Iron Islands, and next to her sits Arianne Martell, Lady Paramount of Dorne. She’s seated next to a young boy with two elderly men behind him, based on his look Jon recognizes him as Robert Arryn, Lord Paramount of the Vale. On the opposite side, the right side of the high chair, sits Edmure Tully, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, and in the seat Jon assumes would be occupied by Tyrion is occupied by a woman Jon has never seen. While Yara is the only queen of the group all of them wear crowns related to their regions and it has Jon confused but before he can question it Sansa stands from her seat.

 

“Jon Snow.” Sansa’s voice rises and Jon lowers his head, slightly shaking it as he listens to her begin the trial. “You stand accused of treason. You stand accused of regicide. How do you plead?”

 

Jon can see the disappointment in her eyes. “She was going to destroy everything. She sounded like she was going to destroy everything?”

 

“Sounded? What do you mean sounded?” Yara Greyjoy’s voice causes him to stop speaking. 

 

“She was speaking to the Unsullied and Dothraki-”

  
“So you speak Valyrian and Dothraki?” Yara questions.

 

Jon shakes his head.

 

“So you do not know what she actually said?”

 

Jon nods his head. 

 

“Yara.” Sansa’s voice makes Yara sit back in her chair, fuming with anger. “So you plead guilty?”

 

Jon nods his head. 

 

Sansa looks at her hands which are clasped in front of herself, she takes a deep breath before nodding her head and turning to look at all the chairs around us. “With no queen the regions have divided, those loyal to Daenerys are united but still individual kingdoms. With the death of Queen Daenerys Targaryen, each region has declared themselves a kingdom. There has not yet been a division this large since Aegon the Conqueror came to Westeros. I have calmed the council long enough to not charge you for starting a civil war. But you must answer for your true crime.” 

 

Jon looks around and the crowns make more sense, each of them have declared themselves the kings and queens of their regions. Jon had not foreseen the massive division, he imagined killing Daenerys would bring peace and that she would not have a chance to bring the kingdom into an era of chaos. 

 

“Each member of the council may voice their opinion on Jon Snow’s punishment.” Sansa sits back down, leaning back with her hand at her chin as she stares at Jon intently.

 

“Send him were all criminals are sent, the wall.” Arianne Martell speaks.

 

“He willingly went to the wall and would have a chance to go beyond it and never return, it wouldn’t be a punishment.” Jon looks up as Arya speaks, her voice soft and her eyes never landing on him. 

 

“All traitors should die as it has always been.” Yara offers.

 

Sansa’s heart pulls, her father died a traitor’s death but was not one. Jon may be a traitor but she can’t lose another family member. “Many have died a traitor’s death but have not been one. We are trying to do as our Queen would, breaking the wheel. Beheading makes us no better than those who worked to turn the wheel.”

 

Sansa can tell Yara does not agree but she can’t argue with the point. Robert Arryn, still a young boy and immature, speaks up. “We can throw him through the moon door!”

 

Lord Royce puts a hand on the boys shoulder and looks to Sansa in apology. Sansa raises a hand and the boy seems to calm himself. 

 

“I tire of death, two wars after another, we’ve had five kings then three queens and now this council, let the man live the rest of his days knowing he killed a woman he swore to protect. Send him to the wall, he may have liked it once but the men there will know why he returned. Let him hold no position of power.” The woman Jon does not know offers an option, he thinks he would prefer death than going back to the wall with his charge being the murder of his queen. 

 

Most of the seated individuals nod their heads, Yara still stares at Jon with a heated glare. “Then we vote.”

 

“All in favor of a traitor’s death say aye,” Sansa looks around.

 

Jon watches as most of them look to Arya and Sansa, they stay quiet as Arya thumbs the pommels of her dagger and sword. Through the quiet Sansa is about to speak until Jon hears Yara Greyjoy speak.

  
“Aye.” 

 

Arya and Sansa immediately turn to face her but Yara’s glare is still on Jon. No one joins in her vote. 

 

“All in favor of sending him to the wall and never hold a position of power say aye,” Sansa listens as the rest of the kings and queens agree. She knows she will not hear Yara’s voice as she listens for the decisions. 

 

Sansa stays quiet and nods her head as the votes come in, Jon looks up to her and her eyes are hard with a piercing glare. Her eyes flick behind Jon and he expects the Unsullied to start to take him back to his cell. What he doesn’t expect is the sound of a woman he never thought he would hear again. What he doesn’t expect is to see Drogon leap above the seats and land behind the main awning. His massive front claws curl around the banister, the wood pillars supporting it crack under his pressure. His lips curl up in a snarl, his calm demeanor when he first allowed Jon to touch him gone and replaced with an unrivaled viciousness. 

 

“Jon Snow.” Daenerys’ voice makes Drogon settle into silence, he watches Jon with rage but lets his mother speak. “I, Daenerys of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to life at The Wall, where you shall have no position of power and live out your days with the knowledge that you murdered your queen.” 

 

Daenerys walks past him, Jon watches that she walks closely to Grey Worm. She leans heavily against him and the two make it to the high chair, Grey Worm stops and Sansa stands to take his place in supporting her. Sansa openly kisses Daenerys’ knuckles and Jon realizes Arya was right, he had failed all members of his family with one decision. 

 

All around the regents stand in shock, gasps of breaths are taken in but Jon notes how Yara and the woman he has never met are not startled by the Queen’s sudden rise from death. Each one stands and look at Daenerys with a look of bafflement. 

 

“But I-”

 

“Yes, you killed me, for eleven minutes according to Maester Wolkan. But your sister and those in Winterfell showed me the utmost care. Even those who were unwilling to welcome me to Winterfell when I first came gave aide. I will have difficulty breathing for the rest of my life, I may not be able to ride Drogon because of that but I live.” Daenerys’ hand squeezes Sansa’s, she sat in the high chair and Sansa didn’t sit back down but she stands at the immediate side of Daenerys’ chair. 

 

“Daenerys-”

 

“Lady Sansa Stark has done the work I could not due to my death, she has spoken with each regent to form this council of Westeros. The lords and ladies of the houses will all sit on a council in their own region and will report to their paramount who will report to this main council. No one man or woman shall hold the power of all of Westeros ever again. This was my intent, not to destroy everything but to fix it so the people will be better than before.” Daenerys’ voice quivers as she speaks, each word growing in anger. 

 

Jon lowers his head in shame and shakes it as he feels his heart sink into his stomach. “I’m so sorry. Daenerys, I’m so sorry-”

 

“I don’t want to hear it.” Daenerys’ lips curl in anger, Drogon seems to mimic her as if they are one individual. “You have your sentence, the Unsullied will take you to the Stark caravan and you will leave with them. I will let you say goodbye to your family before you go to the Wall but once you are in Castle Black should you ever leave, your sentence is death.”

 

The Unsullied from behind him approach and grab at his shoulders, pulling him away.

 

―

 

They travel for a week and Sansa never speaks to Jon, she knows Arya speaks to him a few times but she is too frustrated at him to speak. Instead she spends most of her time with Daenerys in their litter along with Jeyne Westerling, previous Paramount of the Westerlands, and her two sons. Sansa has never smiled so much since she first left Winterfell all those years ago. Robb and Eddard are twin trouble makers and Sansa can see her brother in both of them. 

 

“So what will we do?” Jeyne asks.

 

Sansa smiles as Robb sits in her lap. “You will be the Lady of Winterfell and Queen Mother of the North. Arya will help, she’s already expressed her happiness at helping you and the boys. Bran, while he’s not all himself, will be there as well. You can always write to us. The boys will have the best education and trainers and they’ll become King of the North and Lord of Winterfell.” Sansa lifts Robb up and he giggles before coming back down before being lifted back up repeatedly.

 

“Are you sure about this? This is your family, your home.” Jeyne sets a hand on Sansa’s knee with a concerned look. 

 

Sansa sets Robb down and the boy goes shuffling to his brother who is listening intently to one of Daenerys’ stories about her dragons. “I haven’t felt at home since I first left Winterfell. But with her I feel something close and hopefully together we’ll find one in Essos. Besides, this is your family as well. I know Robb will be proud.”

 

“You think they will accept us?” Jeyne looks to the young boys still huddled around Daenerys. 

 

“Robb Stark’s wife? The mother of the future King in the North and Lord of Winterfell? Of course. You being back in Winterfell, safe and sound, with the Freys dead is a beautiful way to show everyone that House Stark is never gone, the pack survives.” Sansa looks to her nephews as well.

 

“The pack survives.” Jeyne smiles at Sansa before calling the boys over to her.

 

Sansa gets up and shuffles to Daenerys, she sits next to her and takes her hand in her own. “Are you sure you want to do this? Go with me?” 

 

Sansa smiles and leans in to give Daenerys a real kiss, her lips incase Daenerys’ and they press their foreheads together. Sansa’s nose rubs against Daenerys’ and the two let out a soft sigh.

 

“I will go anywhere with you.” Sansa gives her a soft quick kiss. 

 

“I am hers and she is mine.” Daenerys whispers so only the two can hear.

 

Sansa smiles and closes her eyes as she repeats, “I am hers and she is mine.”

 

The two fall asleep leaning on each other, hands in each other’s hands, and with nothing but the thought of each other and their future of peace in Essos.


End file.
